Fortuitous Meetings
by Feral Phoenix
Summary: If the greater picture is examined, it can be seen that the threads of fate often cross and tangle. These were their first steps towards destiny. A series of pregame oneshots. Spoilers. [04: Baldus and Gulcasa.]
1. First I m p r e s s i o n s

Fortuitous Meetings

DISCLAIMER: Me no own, you no sue. And I'll feed you to Gul-chan's dragons if you try, so there.

**first **i m p r e s s i o n s

In the 21st year of the reign of King Ordene of Fantasinia, the royal family and their closest attendants journeyed to the much-diminished Empire of Bronquia, to the north of their borders. After the anarchy that had followed the wartime death of Emperor Karza, Ordene—then the Royal Prince—had taken the Holy Sword and helped a family of Royal allies in Bronquia assume the throne instead, thus restoring peace between the nations. In gratitude, the new Emperor and his family had invited the king and his retinue to enjoy their hospitality every year to commemorate the event.

This was the first year, however, that the queen and the seven-year-old princess had come along for the trip.

---

"Yggdra, don't fidget. Sit up straight, like a proper young lady should."

The young girl perched on her knees at the carriage window started, then squirmed back around to sit properly on the seat cushion, giving her starched governess a pouty look as she clutched her skirts. She was small for her age, with shiny, straight golden-blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and huge sapphire-blue eyes. She wore a velvet-and-brocade green dress and vest over a white linen shift with lacy edges, fine deerskin boots, and a jewel-encrusted platinum clip that softly pulled her hair back from her face. But despite the way she was dripping in finery, she didn't seem to be very aware of her own social status. Instead, she seemed preoccupied with getting another peek of what lay outside the closed carriage box.

"Papa said we'll be in Flarewerk soon," the little princess reminded her governess, kicking her heels against the plush seat. She pronounced the name of the Bronquian capital slowly and carefully, as she'd been instructed. "I want to see what it's like outside!"

"Patience, Yggdra," the old woman said in a slightly annoyed tone, turning back to what she was really interested in—tatting a spool of lace. "You'll get to see foreigners soon enough. Though, mind you, these Bronquians are a nasty, barbaric lot, no matter how civilized their new ruler is. I would have _much _preferred that we stay in Paltina, but His Majesty insisted, so here we are. Keep a safe distance, Princess."

Yggdra made a face and turned back to the window, watching the country swirl by. Up ahead was a walled city made of red brick, and the red-washed stone of a bright palace just beyond it, with red banners flapping at every tower.

No matter what her governess said, Yggdra couldn't have been any more excited to see this strange new place… and finally, maybe have an adventure or two of her own here, just like her papa.

---

Meanwhile, in the dirtiest and most out-of-the-way of Flarewerk's slums, a boy stood at the door of a poorly-built thatched-roof wooden house, bidding a hushed farewell to the pair of girls that stood just inside it.

He was ten years old, though he could've passed for older between his height, the layer of muscle he'd built performing various kinds of work, and the mature look on his face. He had bright crimson hair cut unevenly an inch or so above chin level and bright golden eyes with deep purple shadows under them; although there were smudges of dirt on his secondhand clothes and a square white bandage on his cheek, he had a noble set to his features—few Bronquian commoners possessed the proudly arched nose, high cheekbones, and strong brow he did. And only two other people living had the same pointed ears as he.

"Remember, you two have to stay inside today," he told the twins, looking from one blonde, blue-eyed girl to the next. "Those damned Royals are going to be all over town, and if they see either of you, you could be killed. Mom and Dad won't be back 'til lunch, and I need to go work in the field, so you'll have to watch Emilia for now. Okay?"

"You be careful, too," one of the twins reminded him, crossing her arms. "If they come near you, hide your ears. I bet all the Fantasinians know what to look for."

Her sister nodded, placing one hand on her hip and pointing a judicious finger at him. "Yeah! You should be staying home today, too, so don't keep lecturing Luciana and me! _We're _the _responsible _ones in this house!"

The boy sighed. "You guys are mean. But seriously… there are six of us here. Just Mom and Dad can't get enough money to buy food for all of us, and we can't even sell any of the Imperial heirlooms, since that would give us away. You two are in the most danger from the Fantasinians, so you need to stay here and be safe. So I have to go work today."

Luciana gave him a _look, _then shook her head and hugged him. "Then… you'd better go. If you're late, the overseer will get mad again. And Aegina and me hate seeing you come home hurt."

"I'll be fine. I won't be late. Tell Emilia I'm sorry I couldn't wait for her to wake up… I think she might be sad about that." The boy hugged each of the twins in turn, then backed down the steps and ran off along the dirt road.

"Be careful, Gulcasa," Luciana hissed anxiously after him. If he heard her, he didn't respond at all.

---

As the carriage slowed to a stop on the cobbled main road through Flarewerk, the door at its side swung open to show the smiling face of a tall, crowned, blonde-bearded man. "How's my little princess doing?"

Yggdra jumped up with a happy cry and ran to hug him. "Papa!"

King Ordene lifted his daughter out of the carriage and swung her around in the air before setting her down on the streets. "We're here. What do you think of the heart of the Empire?"

Yggdra turned in a slow circle where she stood, wide-eyed with delight. "Wooooow! It's so _red!"_

Her home, the royal city of Paltina, was shiningly white, with most of the buildings made of white marble brick and the streets cobbled with the leftovers from any construction. The blue-and-white banner of the phoenix fluttered at every corner, a testament to the people's pride in their monarchy, and the city was built in a radial design around the castle. Flarewerk, however, was built up a slope leading to the big black castle, which sat up on the coast as if keeping a watchful eye over the smaller buildings before it. There were small shops set up along the sides of the street, and every flag Yggdra saw was a deep scarlet, emblazoned with a black dragon rampant.

As the princess looked around wonderingly, the king smiled at her, then turned to the carriage driver. "I'm glad I was able to bring her here. Up until now, the peasant insurrections have been too common and too violent for me to risk taking my family along."

The driver shrugged. "Well, milord, I don't know what I can tell you. There are still plenty of people in Bronquia who aren't happy about the change in power. The common people might have settled down now, but who knows about the future. Even now, you hear talk about how the rightful heir to the Dragon Throne is still out there somewhere."

The king turned to look briefly at Yggdra, then shook his head. "Well, all I can say about that is that I hope that the times of war are going to be over soon. These hands are a little tired of wielding the Gran Centurio against brave people in the name of justice. Peace is more important than war, and the land of Bronquia might be entirely decimated in the next big battle. The last thing this world needs is another Lost Aries."

"I know what you mean," the driver said fervently. "And, milord… I'm sure that Her Highness will be able to enjoy a peace in her life that we couldn't while we were growing up. You've done everything you can to see that she lives happy."

"I really do hope that you're right," King Ordene said softly.

---

Seeing the other workers beginning to trail off, Gulcasa dropped his hoe with a sigh, took off his shirt, and used it to wipe the sweat off his face. He really hated field work during the planting season; swinging a hoe into the unyielding ground to stir the soil for hours on end under the vicious sun was bad enough without the new Imperial officials overseeing the work. They were cruel people, absolutely faithful to that cursed pretender to the throne and happy to use the whip on anyone who didn't share their fervor. Gulcasa hated them almost as much as he hated the current Emperor.

At the very least, he reflected, someone his age didn't have to plow. Under Bronquian law, young children could not do heavy work of any kind. If not for that law, he didn't doubt that he would have been forced into _that _unwelcome task instead of this one.

He would feel a lot better when fall came around and it was time to harvest the wheat that would grow in this field. Somehow, Gulcasa _always_ felt better with a scythe in his hands, even if it was only one of the dull, blunt things used to collect produce. His parents and the girls took pride in that fact, since Bronquia's elite dragon-riding knights were all skilled scythe-wielders, and said that this was only one more way that the ancient dragon Brongaa's blood flowed strongly in him. His great-grandfather, he was often told, had been a great and noble knight as well as a strong ruler.

Since he apparently had such great worth, Gulcasa just wished that one day he would have the chance to prove it.

Pulling his shirt back on, Gulcasa picked up his hoe, took it back to the rack of tools, and retrieved his miserly wage of twelve coppers. Aching, frustrated, and just plain tired, he put the coins in his pocket and headed towards Flarewerk proper, hoping to slip through the streets quickly so that he could get home to Luciana, Aegina, and Emilia. There, he'd be able to get some rest.

However, he'd almost forgotten the fact that the Fantasinian entourage was going to be occupying the main street today. Seeing the cluster of nobles and middle-class people in the streets, Gulcasa cursed under his breath and tried to thread his way along the side of the street while looking for some kind of opening to get to the other side.

"Hello!"

Gulcasa started, then turned around to see a girl a few years younger than him standing behind him with a bright smile on her face. She was dressed in such ridiculous splendor that she had to be a noble, and yet here she was in the streets, talking to someone dirt-poor.

It occurred to Gulcasa that the only difference between the two of them was fortune, and for some reason that just made him angry.

"You must live here! I've never been here before, but this is such a beautiful city! I'm so happy I got to—"

"You're Fantasinian, aren't you?" Gulcasa interrupted, his hands curling into fists and barely-controlled hate straining his voice.

The girl stopped short and blinked at him. "I… um, yes, I am…"

"It's because of you… because of you, and your people, that my country is like this! It's because of you Fantasinians that everyone is suffering! I can never forgive _any _of you! So don't come near me with that face like you wanna be friends! I hate _all _Fantasinians! Go get lost! Leave me alone!"

Angry and confused, Gulcasa shoved past her and through the tight wave of people, fighting his way towards the other side of the street. He heard the Fantasinian girl calling for him to wait, but ignored her. He wasn't sure why he'd lost his temper so easily—usually he was good at keeping hold of it—but seeing that girl, who'd so obviously been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, had just irrationally irritated him.

Finally breaking out of the crowd, Gulcasa wove towards the slums, sticking his hands in his pockets.

And stopped dead, horror slowly seeping into his heart.

_The twelve coppers he'd earned today were gone!_

Gulcasa felt around in his pocket frantically, feeling his heart stop for a split second as his ring finger poked through a hole in the corner. The money must have fallen out while he'd walked home—but where? With all those people standing around, there was no way he would be able to find it all even if he spent all day looking!

"Oh, no… Oh, _gods, _no…"

For however long the Fantasinians stayed in Flarewerk, Luciana and Aegina couldn't go down to the mill to work. His parents' wages fluctuated depending on how much work they could get done by the hour and their employers' moods. For now, everyone was _counting _on the money he earned so that they could buy food and pay tax and tithe. And today they'd be twelve coppers short. _Now _what were they supposed to do? If they couldn't buy enough food for everyone… or if their payments came up short…

Gulcasa slumped down to his knees in the street and curled up, miserable. Today _definitely _claimed the prize for being the worst day _ever._

---

"Have you seen Yggdra?"

The noble blinked at his king and shook his head. "N-no, I haven't seen the Princess anywhere. Why? What's wrong?"

Ordene sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing. It just seems like she's wandered off. She has been awfully excited about coming here, and so I bet she just gave everyone the slip so she could explore."

But though he acted calm, Ordene was secretly worried. As the carriage driver had said, there still were a _lot _of peasants in Bronquia loyal to the old Imperial family. And if one of them had taken it into their head to kidnap his daughter for some reason…

Well, he just wouldn't think about that now. After all, Yggdra probably had just wandered off on some normal, little-girl flight of whimsy.

---

"Hey—" Yggdra called uncertainly, catching sight of the angry boy sitting slumped in the street. "Um, um…"

He didn't answer. Maybe he didn't hear her.

"Um, um, um…" Yggdra ventured a little closer, looking around nervously. "Um, excuse me…"

"Go away," he said in a growl. "I'm _really _not in the mood."

Yggdra shrank back for a moment, but shook her head and took a few more tentative steps forward. "Um, um, but… Um, you dropped…"

That got his attention. He jolted up, staring at her carefully cupped hands in utter shock, then launched forward, grabbing the fistful of pennies away from her. "That's mine!"

Yggdra twisted her skirts in her hands anxiously as he carefully counted out the coins. "Um, um, um… is… is that everything? I, um… I don't know if I got it all…"

The boy just sighed, looking almost painfully relieved, and shoved the money into his pocket. Then he turned and gave her a look that was half-wary, half-scathing. "Look, you… just get out of here. This is no place for some idiot _noble, _especially a _Fantasinian _noble. I'm not the only one who lives here who hates people like you. So… so go run back to your mommy and daddy and your perfect life." With that, he turned on his heel and headed further down the road.

Yggdra sighed. She supposed that was as much of a "thank you" she would get out of him, but… for some reason his attitude made her so nervous. She wished she knew why he didn't like her so much.

Well, all she really _could _do now was go back to her papa, like he'd told her. Everyone was probably worried by now…

But when Yggdra turned around, she found that there were _two _paths behind her, and that she couldn't really remember which one she'd taken. She'd been focusing on not dropping the boy's money anywhere, and both of the roads looked so similar…

"What am I… supposed to do…?"

---

Gulcasa hadn't gotten far down the road when he heard a sound behind him that made him whip around in disbelief.

The Fantasinian girl was sitting in the middle of the street, absolutely bawling.

"What in the world is _wrong _with you?" he demanded, walking back towards her. "I said go back to your parents… or… wait, don't tell me…!"

The girl blinked up at him, her face all red and her big blue eyes swimming with tears. "Please… _please help me!"_

And, jumping up, she latched on to him, flinging her arms around his waist and clinging tightly.

Gulcasa sweatdropped. "What are you doing?"

"I can't… I can't find my way back and… and everyone's going to be looking for me and… and… please… please help me!!"

"O-okay… okay… just… just let go, and stop crying!" Gulcasa shook the girl's shoulders in an attempt to dislodge her, thinking all the while, _What is WITH her?!_

The girl looked up at him with such desperation that he couldn't stand it and sighed, running both hands through his hair.

"You just need to get back to the street, right? Then you'll run into somebody you know or who can at least take you to your parents. I don't think you're very experienced at taking directions, so I'll take you back myself." _And then I can get you out of my hair and go home. _"So… stop looking at me like that. I'm not going to ditch you here."

The girl nodded and wiped at her tears, her lower lip quivering.

"Just… follow me and we'll get you back to the main road. Okay?"

She nodded again, then reached out and clutched his hand tightly in hers.

"Jeez…" Thoroughly embarrassed and irritated with himself for even agreeing to do this in the first place, Gulcasa headed down the street, pulling the Fantasinian girl after him.

She followed obediently at his heels as he walked, letting him tug her along by the hand. Her trust in him felt confounding—hadn't she _heard _him say how much he hated Fantasinians?—but all the same, it made him want to do right by her.

In other words, it was weird. And Gulcasa didn't like feeling so conflicted.

Within a few minutes, the two of them had reached the edge of the street.

"Here. I'm sure you can find your way back now. I've got to go home. My family is waiting for me."

"Um, wait…"

Gulcasa turned; the girl dropped his wrist and gave him a wavering smile.

"Thank you…"

"Tch…" Feeling himself blush all the way to the tips of his ears, Gulcasa turned back and ran down the road, just wanting clear of all this confounding business for good.

---

"Papa!"

Ordene whirled around, sighing in relief. "Yggdra! Where have you been all this time? I was just about to send out an order to search for you!"

Yggdra ran straight into his arms so that he could pick her up, sniffling a little. "I… got lost," she confessed. "But, but… there was a boy who helped me."

"Really?" Maybe, Ordene reflected, the people of Flarewerk weren't a complete lost cause after all.

"He seemed really angry, and he said he hated Fantasinians, but… he was also very kind." Sadness crossed Yggdra's face. "And… I never even learned his name."

"That's too bad. We could've given him some kind of reward for helping you," Ordene said with a sigh. "But we should take you back to your mama. She's worried sick about you."

It didn't really matter, did it? After all, his daughter would probably never see this boy again. And anyway, he had to stop encouraging her to run off like that. It had taken at least ten years off his life.

Even so, Yggdra never forgot it.

---

"Where have you _been?" _Luciana demanded shrilly as Gulcasa closed the door behind him. "We thought for sure that something had happened to you!"

Gulcasa shook his head. "Sorry. I met this weird girl on the way back, some noble or something. She was lost, and I couldn't just leave her there."

"You are _way _too nice for your own good," Aegina informed him. "Who cares about nobles anyway? Come on, come eat lunch."

Gulcasa sighed, and did. All he really wanted to do was forget the whole thing anyway. It was way too embarrassing to dwell over.

But despite all his efforts, Gulcasa never forgot it either.

:owari:


	2. O, F o r t u n a

Fortuitous Meetings

DISCLAIMER: I do not own, you do not sue, and therefore my muses will not have to messily kill you so as to provide more random underlings for Roswell's undead army or Nessiah's collection of soulless peons.

_O,_ F o r t u n a

Death is not a pretty sight.   
Death is painful, it is brutal, and it is utterly merciless. It is ugly and it is hated and, in the end, it will spare no one, nothing.   
And I would have given anything then to be able to surrender myself to its dark embrace with the knowledge that all the suffering would end at last. But at least this time… it wouldn't. And maybe it never would.   
What was left of the magic power that remained to me seemed to have leaked out of my torn and battered body with my blood, and so I was already wrapped in darkness. Even if my ruined eyes weren't covered by the spell-sealed plates of metal that connect to the accursed chains that bind my shattered body, all I would have been able to see would be murky gray. It was a miserable, stormy day… I could still hear the rain pouring down in solid sheets, could still feel it drenching me, chilling me straight to the bones.   
I shivered, unable to help myself. My torn muscles screamed in agony.   
The pain was only just beginning, but as usual, it was already almost bad enough to destroy whatever remained of my sanity. And all that I was able to do was hope that it would be over quickly.   
If "over" was even an applicable word. Because, after all… in a few months or years, I would just come awake in the sealed temple again, half-frozen and nearly mindless with the sheer physical and mental agony of my slow reincarnation, shaking and sobbing beside the glass coffin that encased my chain-wrapped true body.   
Nine times out of ten, whenever I became so ill or so wounded that I could feel death at arm's length, I usually managed to crawl back there, to go through the painful process of death and rebirth in solitude. But this… I had already been on my way back to the coast, but despite all my long experience of this bitter world, I hadn't kept up my guard. And I'd paid for it.   
Bandits. That was what it had been. A ragged party of highway brigands out to make money. They'd caught me unawares, and I hadn't had any time. No time to cast a single spell, no time to call upon a single lost soul in my own defense. A handful of poorly-led, barbaric human raiders had been the end for me.   
I coughed, tasted blood, and gave something that was more whimper than moan.   
And inwardly cursed myself, over and over.   
As consciousness faded, I thought I heard the jangle of metal, but even though I strained my ears, I was too far gone to tell if it was real or merely an illusion. 

---

The next thing I was aware of was a pure, all-enfolding, merciful warmth that enveloped my entire body, followed by murky confusion.   
The dregs of magic had somehow returned to me. I clutched at them with all the will I could muster, and as the world blurred into vague color, I "saw" the brightest red in front of me, and tried to turn towards it.   
"Are you awake?"   
I tried to focus on the voice, and that pretty red, as though they would keep me in this life a few moments longer. "…Where…?"   
"You're in the Imperial capital city, Flarewerk," the voice answered. "This is the country of Bronquia. My men and I found you collapsed on the steps of an abandoned shrine at the side of the road. You were nearly dead, but we brought you back here all the same. It's been days since, and we've had you treated by the best doctors and healers in the city. It… looks like you'll make it."   
I slowly gathered my wits about me as the situation started to make sense. I was warm because this person or someone associated with him had laid me in a bed, in a room with a fireplace. I could hear the crackle of flames in the distance, proving my theory. That meant… whoever this was, he had saved my life.   
"We recovered your belongings, as well… they're here in this room with you. Your clothes are being washed and repaired right now, though." There was a slight pause. "You were very badly injured… you lost a lot of blood, and you've grown very ill. You would do best to not strain yourself trying to get up."   
As I listened, the images around me grew clearer, until I realized that I was facing a tall young man dressed half in black, form-fitting clothes and half in heavy-looking armor, with striking gold eyes and hair the most vivid red of anyone I'd ever known. His expression was so calm it was almost blank, but his words were compassionate.   
"And one more thing… those chains…" He hesitated, then shook his head. "I've tried to break them, and so has everyone short of the smithies—we didn't want to move you and risk injuring you further. But so far nothing has worked. Still, if it's in our power to get you out of them, we will. That was a cruel thing for someone to have done to you."   
"It's… alright." My voice sounded hoarse; I really must have slept for a long time. "They… can't be broken by the strength of men." I coughed, shivered, and continued. "But… thank you."   
The man cracked a lopsided smile. "If you insist. Although it still feels like I should try whatever is in my power. …Listen… do you remember who it was that hurt you?"   
If I'd had the strength, I would have made a face. "It was… road brigands… I think. They didn't take anything of mine… I had nothing they wanted."   
The man didn't speak for a few moments, and I wondered absently what he must think of an experienced magician like me getting blindsided by a handful of rogues.   
"…What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"   
The question took me by surprise. "I'm…… my name is Nessiah."   
"Well, Nessiah, you had a very close call, and you need to get your sleep. If you wake up and need anything, the next time someone comes in here, ask for Gulcasa. Wherever I happen to be, they'll find me, and I'll do what I can. I haven't been in power long, but I'm still the Emperor of these lands. So long as you don't abuse our hospitality too much, the people of Bronquia are at your service."   
Gulcasa. Of course. I remembered now that there had recently been a coup d'état in Bronquia; the Imperial family and court had all been slain in a short but vicious uprising led by a youth named Gulcasa. Despite the nature of his ascension to power, he was popular with his citizens, as the previous Emperor had been given the throne by the Fantasinian monarch for service in the last war between the two countries. Now that I'd seen him, I decided that the rumors didn't do him justice: He was even kinder than his people claimed. He had rescued me, a complete stranger, for no other reason than because he'd been able to.   
Young rulers were always so naïve.   
I could use this. I really could. But… all the same… I felt as if I couldn't just repay this man's mercy with betrayal. Not right now. Not right away.   
I… couldn't.   
"Rest." The young Emperor of Bronquia reached out and laid a hand on my forehead, as if blessing my wretched and nearly-spent shell. "I have to leave you for the moment, but I'll be back later. Just get some sleep. The only thing you can do right now is get better."   
He turned as the magic that I had been burning through slipped out of my grasp and sent the world into darkness again; I heard his footsteps on the ground and then the swing of a closing door.   
Alone, I slid back into exhausted sleep.   
If I remained awake, the guilt would claw my heart apart. 

---

_"Is it really that bad, Gulcasa-nii?" Luciana said with a frown, folding her arms and shifting her weight as Gulcasa closed the door behind him. "You've got your Emperor face on."_   
_Gulcasa sighed and shook his head. "It's not what you mean by 'bad'. He's probably going to survive. It's just… you've heard the extent of his injuries. He said he was assaulted by bandits, likely caught unawares and unable to defend himself, and it appears that once they realized he had nothing they wanted, they just decided to kill him instead. It's awful, not to mention that it's the sixth such attack this month. This is really getting to be a serious problem."_   
_"At least we were able to save this one," Aegina said with a grimace. "He can give us a description so that we can hunt these brigands down and force them to face the Imperial justice."_   
_Gulcasa shook his head again, starting to pace. "But… brigands surely can't have done all that to him. I was there when he was being worked on, and even beneath these injuries, he is literally covered in scars. He's been tortured at least once, I can tell… and someone or some_thing _ripped his back open. The marks are old, but so deep and so vivid that I can't believe those injuries didn't kill him when he got them._   
_"And he's _blind. _We can't get the chains off, but the faceplate can be taken apart, and his eyes are completely sealed shut by scar tissue. It looks to me like someone took an axe to his face, gouged his eyes out for some reason, or tried to… in any case, his vision has been completely destroyed. He acted aware and lucid when I spoke to him, but…"_   
_"He's a mage, right?" Luciana probed. "I've heard that there are spells to let one see with the mind instead of the eyes. He probably uses something like that."_   
_"But still!" Gulcasa whirled back around to face the twins, an expression of complete, anguished torment on his face. "It just isn't right for one person to suffer so much! At this rate, I can't believe he's still sane! I can't stand it. I wish there was something more I could do for him. And it worries me…"_   
_"Are you afraid we'll make enemies of whoever did those things?"_   
_"No… I would actually welcome the chance to kill whoever would harm another person like that with my bare hands. I just… I have to wonder how people can do this to each other. What could he possibly have done to merit this? Even criminals condemned to death deserve humane executions. And even brigands like the ones who have been plaguing the country with rapine, plunder, and murder… I can't believe that even they would sink so low as to attack a blind and sickly mage all by himself. How could anyone do such a thing? It makes me sick just thinking about it."_   
_"Gulcasa-nii…"_   
_"I can't stand it." So saying, Gulcasa began to pace again. "I want to help him. I _have _to help him. I just can't stand seeing someone suffer like that all alone. When I was in there, I just had this nearly uncontrollable urge to hold him close and promise that everything was going to be alright now… the only thing that stopped me was knowing that doing that would probably hurt him even worse, in his condition. After being so abused, and being saved by our people… it feels like we're responsible for showing him that he can trust us, that all of humanity isn't as bad as those who hurt him."_   
_"You're such a mother hen, Gulcasa-nii," Luciana said with a smile. "Don't worry. This is your will, and I'm sure most of the people who've seen him feel exactly the same way. Don't take it all on yourself. You already have to bear so much as the Emperor… trying to take on this man's pain for him is only going to hurt _you. _It already has… I can tell just by the deadpan look you had on your face when you walked out of that room. It must have been hard for you to hold it together in there… you're such a kind person that seeing anybody in pain hurts you worse than it does them."_   
_"You can rely on us," Aegina added with a nod. "It's bad enough already with you having to rescue every lost kitten you come across without your trying to save every wounded soul that crosses our paths all on your own. I'm sure that if the details of this man's condition are revealed, all of Bronquia will become his shelter, not just you. Delegate, Gulcasa-nii. You don't need to handle all this on your own. You're under too much stress as it is."_   
_"So don't you worry about tracking the bandits down," her sister concluded. "We've got it all in hand. You just take care of this guy. Oh, and don't forget to rule while you're nursing your new patient back to health."_   
_Gulcasa shook his head, but smiled wryly at them. "…Thank you…"_   
_There was a knock at the door, and a very breathless Emilia let herself in. "Everyone! We've searched the surrounding lands, but we haven't seen anything out of the ordinary yet. That's my report."_   
_"Emilia…" Gulcasa nodded. "Thank you. Our patient woke while you were out… he related to us that we should be looking for a group of brigands and not rebels after all. Go tell Eudy, Baldus, and Zilva what we're looking for, then go get some rest. You look like you're all in. You can search again tomorrow, once you're fresh—but be careful, please… we've all seen what these people are capable of."_   
_"You don't need to worry about me," Emilia said with a big smile. "We're all happy to help any way we can!" She reached up to give her brother a hug, then headed for the door again. "You get some rest too though, okay?"_   
_After she left, Aegina elbowed her Emperor in the side. "See? Even your little sister's worried. Now go get some sleep. We'll watch what's-his-name for a few hours so that you can stay standing tomorrow."_   
_"He says his name is Nessiah," Gulcasa told her. "He didn't give a surname; he might not have one… but I probably should get at least a little rest. Please… do all you can for him. I'm sure what he needs more than anything right now is a little support and kindness."_   
_With that, he left; Aegina and Luciana watched him go, then turned to each other and sighed._   
_"He's wearing himself out. I have no idea how much longer he'll hold like this… he's such an idiot sometimes."_   
_"I know…" Aegina made a face. "Still. Gulcasa-nii… seems to need to care about people. He knows what it's like to suffer, and to bear scars, after all."_   
_Luciana crossed her arms. "He just needs to figure out that he isn't the only one with a sympathetic heart around here. And that it was a whole different kind of hell for _us, _watching him come home all those times after getting whipped bloody. It's not like we can just stand by either while people suffer… or while he falls apart trying to take care of everyone who is."_   
_"I suppose all we can do right now is watch this Nessiah and give Gulcasa-nii some peace of mind."_   
_"True…"_   
_The two of them turned back towards the mostly-closed door to peek at the sleeping, bandage-swathed mage lying in the bed there._   
_They would stay that way for the rest of the night._

:owari: 


	3. Miss I n d e p e n d e n t

Fortuitous Meetings

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yggdra Union. Or Kylier. And technically the title of this one belongs to Kelly Clarkson, not me, but eh. It's a good song, and it does sound like her…

_Miss _I n d e p e n d e n t

"We've got you now, girlie!"

The ring of bandits closed their circle a little tighter.

"Tch—you wish. Now get outta my way!"

The bandits laughed.

Kylier was doing a pretty good job of presenting a brave front considering the circumstances, but underneath her bravado she was nearing panic. Because of the tree cover, her griffon didn't want to fly up, she had enemies on all sides but the rock face behind her, and her only weapon was the training club she'd been ordered to bring along just in case. Her heart was hammering, and her back was beaded with sweat. She couldn't go down here. She had a job to do.

"Hey, what the hell d'you punks think you're doing?!"

A few of the bandits turned, surprised. "Ooooh, look. The girlie has a champion."

Kylier frowned. She didn't know that voice.

It belonged to a boy who looked about her age—twelve, thirteen—with messy silver-gray hair, big blue eyes, and tattoos across his face. He was dressed in a ragged tunic and wolfskin pelt, and he had a crescent-shaped blade taller than him in one hand and an outrageous scowl on his face.

Well, whoever he was, Kylier was not about to let him get involved in her quarrel with these idiots and get himself killed. "Hey, shove off! This is none of your business!"

"Tch." He shrugged and spread his hands wide. "Yeah, and how do you figure? This is _my _turf you're on, squirt. _I _should be tellin' _you _to shove off."

Kylier felt a muscle bunch in her cheek. The nerve of this kid!

"But, hey, you're in luck. Just so happens, I hate seein' a bunch of guys gangin' up on a girl. Isn't exactly friendly. Or the kinda thing we like to tolerate in Norn."

Kylier just had to stare. Either this guy had no brain or some serious delusions of grandeur.

"What d'you think _you're _gonna do about it, pipsqueak?" a bandit asked incredulously, echoing Kylier's disbelief.

"Oh, maybe… something like this," the kid said with a grin, and before Kylier could even blink, he'd launched himself forward, yelling and whipping his ridiculously huge weapon in a wide circle.

The bandits all lurched away, yelling, as the boy lunged after them, deflecting his strikes as best they could, scampering away from Kylier.

"Wh-what's _with _this guy? Is he _insane?" _one bandit demanded of the others as they all moved into a retreat. "You wait 'til Boss hears about this!"

"Yeah, yeah, run home crying!" the kid shouted gleefully, shaking his big blade in the air as they scampered off. He then turned to Kylier with a giant grin. "So, you okay?"

Kylier glared at him. "You didn't have to butt in, you know," she said scathingly. "I was doing just fine on my own."

"If you say so." He shrugged, giving her a look that said he knew otherwise. "Why're you down here, anyway? This's no place for a girl to wander around."

"I'm delivering something, for your information," Kylier snapped, looking down her nose at him. "In the town south of here. It's none of your business, so shove off."

The kid crossed his arms behind his head. "You sure picked a great road to head to town," he commented. Apparently he had no intention of shoving off as ordered. "Those guys I just chased off? Their base is smack in the middle of the path. You know how to use that thing?" he asked, nodding at the heavy, spiked mace in her hand.

"Of _course _I do," she seethed. "The only reason I couldn't get them all right away was 'cause there were so many all at once, stupid!"

"Well, see, that's the problem," he agreed, nodding. "Even if you can take care of yourself, there are plenty more where those guys came from this way."

"So? I'll handle it," Kylier said, nettled.

"Well, it just so happens I'm goin' this way too. So we might as well go together, right? I could use somebody else to work with, too."

"How do I know I can trust you?" she snapped.

"Well, I _did _kinda just save you," he drawled in reply, giving her what he obviously thought was a winning smile. Kylier's hackles, already prickling, went even further up at the sight. "Besides, we been talkin' to each other all this time, and I coulda attacked you plenty'a times if I'd wanted to. But I didn't."

"Gnnngh…!" Kylier _glared, _red-faced, her fists shaking. "Ooooh, if you're going to tag along with me than you could at _least _tell me your name first!"

"Milanor," he said grandly. "No last name. I figure I don' need one anyway, right? C'mon, Miss Prissy, we've got us some bandits to kill."

---

This Milanor kid, as he called himself, was absolutely full of hot air and brash and stupid and had no manners and liked to get in Kylier's way.

_Annnd, _unfortunately, it turned out that he _did _kind of know what he was doing with that ridiculously huge weapon of his. Whenever he and Kylier ran into any sentries on the way to town, he was on them with a yell before they had more than a chance to blink at him blankly. Kylier was frustrated that she wasn't getting the chance to fight anything, but she still had to admit to herself bitterly that _maybe _Milanor was a little bit useful after all.

A _little _bit.

"Bet you're glad you decided to let me come _now, _aren'tcha?" he said proudly, doing a ridiculous victory pose after knocking out another sentry.

Kylier growled, glowering at him. "Tch. _Let _you come? Even if I'd told you to stay behind, you still would've followed me. Tell it like it is, you dumbass."

Milanor stuck his tongue out at her. Through an immense exertion of will and maturity, Kylier didn't retort with the same.

"Well, _here _we are, Bandit Central," Milanor told her as she continued to glare at him, waving one gloved hand around grandly. "Ain't it pretty? Could use a little interior decorating in _my _opinion, but eh."

"What're _yewww _doin' here, you obnoxious little scamp?" came a man's accented, aggravated voice from further ahead. Through the trees, Kylier saw the approach of a group of axe-wielding, heavyset men.

Milanor gave the bandits a brash grin. "Escortin' my lovely lady friend to her destination. Y'all are in the way. Move it, unless you wanna get your asses kicked like _last _time."

Kylier looked at the bandits, then at Milanor, then back at the bandits again. They looked pissed. He looked cocky as hell. Was he lying, or telling the truth?

"You'll pay for mockin' us like that, brat," the bandit in the middle (their boss?) snapped, and lunged. Milanor scampered out of the way like a monkey, laughing. Ignoring Kylier, the bandits chased him.

Well, this was nice. They were so focused on her idiotic "escort" that she could probably just head right into town without looking back.

Still, she supposed she _did _owe him one for helping her out back at the cliff. Besides, annoyance or not, she'd feel a little guilty if she just left him here to get pounded.

So Kylier nudged her griffon forward, scowled at the bandits, waited for Milanor to pass by her, and clouted their leader on the head.

_"Owww! _Whad'ja do _that _for?!" the bandit boss whined, glaring at her.

"It's not nice to ignore people," she retorted, putting her hands on her hips. "You got any complaints, direct 'em to _me. _I'm the one that wants to get through here. You're in _my _way, so forget _him, _if you keep _me _from getting where I want to go, _I'm _the one that's gonna pound you!"

The bandits moved towards her menacingly; Kylier smirked and readied her club. She'd teach these idiots to get in her way.

But before she could, there was a gleeful cry of "Y'all are doin' it again!", and Milanor crashed into the bandits' flank, swinging his big weapon through their ranks.

_"Hey! _Will you just knock it off and let me—?!" Kylier started to yell, but her indignant shout was lost beneath the scramble of the bandits' retreat into the brush.

"We won't forget this!" one of them cried. Milanor made a face and blew a raspberry at their retreating backsides.

As Kylier watched, appalled at his childish behavior, Milanor laughed and turned to her with a sunny smile. "Ahahaha! Y'know, we make a pretty good team! C'mon, the town's close now."

Kylier stifled her urge to _kill _the annoying boy, ground her teeth, and followed him.

---

They'd reached the town in about another ten minutes. By then, Kylier was thoroughly sick of her guide's behavior and wanted rid of him so badly that she was considering kneeing her griffon forward and just escaping him a few minutes early. But to be safe, she waited until they were within the perimeter of the town to turn to him and say, "Well, since we're here, I don't think I need you anymore."

"Maybe so." Milanor just grinned at her cheerily. "Still, if y'ever have any more bandit problems, you know who to call!" And he sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune as he did.

Kylier stared after him, shook her head, and tried to remember the directions to her great-aunt's house, thinking, _I'd rather drink liquid lead than have anything else to do with him ever again._

Owari. XD


	4. The L i g h t in the Darkness

Fortuitous Meetings

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yggdra Union, despite the fact that several cast members are my babies.

The **L i g h t **in the _Darkness_

The bright autumn sun shone down on the wide fields enclosed within Flarewerk's walls as the grizzled old soldier walked the dirt road beside it, leading his horse along beside him.

It was midday, and so the wheat field beside him was filled with workers, young peasant men and women scything grain with old, blunted tools to the rhythm of the commands shouted by their overseers—bored-looking Imperial knights traversing the cleared lanes looking for anyone unlucky enough to fall behind, playing with whips and clubs as if to advertise the fate those they sought would find.

The soldier's horse, a pretty bay barely out of its colthood, whickered. The old man turned to it and patted its broad shoulder.

"Come along, Werdna. There's nothing that can be done here."

Here, or anywhere, the old man thought privately. Despite its ancient legacy and the proud lineage of Emperors it had once been ruled by—Emperors who could trace their heritage all the way back to the dragon said to sleep beneath these lands—the country of Bronquia had fallen on hard times, and the nation was desperately sick. The common folk were tired and angry, pushed well beyond their limits between the hard field work they were so often forced into and the Fantasinian occupation of almost every town and village other than Flarewerk itself. Ever since the last war with Fantasinia had been so badly lost and the old Emperor, His late Majesty Karza, had been overthrown and replaced by a lesser noble who had aided the Fantasinian conquest, things had been going downhill. To keep his unruly populace under control, the new Emperor had subjected the country to harsh martial law, and in order to make it work, divisions of Fantasinia's army had been deployed by their king to sit on the towns and keep control as they saw fit.

The old Bronquian army—the army to which, in his youth, the old soldier had once belonged—could do little to change things. They were scattered, leaderless, outnumbered, and hopelessly divided, and the law was against them. Most of them had sought occupation elsewhere, avoided the new military, and tried to live what peaceful lives they could, bereft of any hope that things could ever again change for the better.

As for the soldier himself—he wasn't sure what, if anything, he could do, but he worked as a horse trainer in the Capital and kept his ear to the ground. If he ever found a way to correct the cowardice he had shown as a lad during the war, he would do it.

After passing the fields, the soldier followed the road to the stables between the nobles' quarters and Castle Bronquia itself.

"You're late, Baldus," the hostler growled.

"My apologies." The old soldier offered the colt's reins. "I'll be back later today to work with this one and the others. Have them ready for me."

The hostler nodded, and disappeared into the stable with the horse. With a long-suffering sigh, Baldus left, taking a different path through Flarewerk towards the commoners' homes.

As he was passing the slums, however, he heard a sudden crash and uproar, and caught sight of a sweep of black smoke spiraling up into the sky.

"The purges…" the old knight murmured to himself, his heavy brow creasing.

Out of some recent fit of paranoia, the new Emperor and Fantasinia's king had decided to pursue the commoners' claim that Emperor Karza's immediate family had escaped the slaughter at the war's end and was living in hiding. Every few weeks or so, an inquisitorial squad of Imperial knights were sent into the city, and if they suspected anyone of harboring those of Brongaa's bloodline, they would set fire to their home, usually burning the inhabitants alive.

Some internal sense of duty to his fellow loyalists prompted Baldus to head into the slums, looking for the source of that pillar of smoke. At the very least, he thought to himself, he might be able to make it in time to save the poor souls the knights had sniffed out this time.

When he arrived, though, he knew that there was nothing that could be done.

The small wooden house the Imperial knights had decided to attack was little more than a torch, entirely engulfed in orange and gold flames, wrapped in gray ashes and black smoke. The two knights who had apparently been assigned to make their rounds were making their leisurely way back towards Flarewerk proper, laughing to each other and congratulating themselves on a job well done. The occasional commoner cast the burning building a glance of worry before hurrying off to deal with his or her own issues before he or she was condemned for showing concern.

Standing not far away from the house was a group of three children, all girls—two blonde, blue-eyed preteens who appeared to be twins, and a child of four or five years with short red hair. From the looks of horror on their faces, Baldus guessed that this had been their home. The youngest of the three was crying openly, reaching out with one tiny hand towards the conflagration and calling for her parents, though her sisters restrained her from going any closer.

Orphaned at that young age, they surely would not survive for long in this neighborhood, Baldus thought sadly, feeling vaguely sick. By the gods, what was this country coming to?

The sound of running steps on the dirt roads drew Baldus' attention away—someone was approaching from the same direction he had come.

"Luciana! Aegina! Emilia! What happened here?!"

As Baldus watched, a familiar-looking lad tore down the street to the girls, wide-eyed with fear for their safety. Their older brother, perhaps? He couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen. Baldus realized he'd seen the boy at work in the fields earlier today, bent over the grain with the same old, worn-out scythe he carried now in his hands. He was covered in sweat and breathing hard—he'd probably run here the first chance he'd gotten, after seeing the smoke.

As he looked from the girls to the burning house to the retreating knights and back, realization slowly dawning on his face, it hit Baldus hard. That scarlet hair—those golden eyes—it couldn't be, and yet there was no doubting the evidence right in front of his eyes.

The commoners' whispers had been true after all. Seeing this boy was like seeing Emperor Karza reborn.

"You three get to a safe distance," the boy was telling his sisters. "Don't—don't go in there. There's nothing any of us can do now. Just hide! If anyone finds you…"

"But what about _you?" _demanded one of the twins shrilly.

"Go!" he ordered fiercely. The twins looked to each other, then collected the little girl and disappeared down the winding streets of the slums.

As for the boy—he stood staring up at the house for a moment longer with grieving eyes, then his expression hardened into resolve, and his grip on his scythe tightened.

With Baldus looking on, he turned towards the two Imperial knights, his eyes hot with hate. _"You __**bastards!"**_

The two of them halted, turning to face him with bemused expressions.

"Looks like we missed one," the bigger of the knights said with a laugh.

"You _bastards!" _the boy cried again. "I'll make you pay for what you did to my parents!"

"If you think you can handle yourself, come on," the other knight taunted, hefting up his spear with a nasty smirk.

With a wordless cry of rage and grief, the boy leveled his scythe and charged at them.

_He's not—_That sick feeling grew in Baldus' heart as he watched. Alone and untrained, this boy would surely be killed by the knights. If only he'd brought his own weaponry, perhaps he could've helped, but…

Baldus' regretful train of thought trailed off in surprise, though, as the boy hit his parents' murderers with a vicious sweep of his weapon, sending them both jolting backwards with a surprised cry. Before either of them could react, he swirled his scythe around again, jerking the spear out of the first knight's hands and then slamming the blade up and around, punching the blade straight through the man's gold-leafed armor and into his chest. The knight made a choked gasping sound and staggered back, collapsing onto the ground, as his blood sprayed in a wide arc. He was dead.

"Why, you little _brat!"_ the other knight snarled, slamming the boy with the side of his heavy spear and sending him tripping over the pole of his own scythe, sprawling along the tightly packed dirt of the road.

The boy stood, but stumbled backwards, wincing and continuing to back away, eyeing the knight warily.

"You'll suffer for defying us," the knight promised, and leveled his spear at the boy.

As for the scarlet-haired child, he hesitated for a moment, then slipped his free hand into a back pocket on his pants, drawing out something long and rectangular in shape.

_"What? _How the hell did a peasant brat like him get a Tactics Card…?" the knight wondered aloud, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter! You're still gonna die!"

The boy looked down at the card for a moment, obviously uncertain. Baldus wondered worriedly if he'd even been taught how to use such a thing—only military forces or those taught by real warriors generally knew how to harness the powers of one of the magical artifacts that armies relied upon nowadays.

But the boy closed his eyes with a sigh, his expression one of fierce concentration. "Please… give me the power to fight," he murmured, then held it up.

And as Baldus looked on, the boy began to call an incantation that was _very _familiar to the old soldier indeed.

"O ancient wyrm, enshrouded in a blazing aura…"

The card flashed to life, sending out a ripple of power as magewind billowed through the area and a faint halo of flame surrounded the boy's body. He half-opened his eyes, and even from a distance, Baldus saw that they'd taken an inhuman glow, their pupils narrowed to draconic slits.

"Thy fury shall unleash the fires of Hell!"

The skies darkened, and a circle of flame exploded around the boy and the knight. In the next instant, there was a violent clash of blade on blade—the boy had rushed his opponent faster than Baldus' experienced eye could track.

"Y-you little—!" the knight snarled, struggling.

The boy ducked around the man's wild attack, then whipped his scythe around with crushing force, ripping straight through the knight's body. Before the man could do much more than yell, the boy was in front of him, tearing his chest open with the force of his final blow.

As the knight toppled, eyes glassy with shock in death, his blood splattering across the boy's face and arms and dripping from the blade of the blunted field scythe, the boy's aura of power dissipated, and the flames that had lit their battleground died abruptly.

Slowly lowering his scythe, the boy stood and stared at the carnage before him almost as if he didn't quite know what had just happened. His weapon clattered to the ground as he dropped it, and he looked at his blood-covered hands, starting to shake.

Baldus decided it was long past time for him to step in. "Lad—" he began.

But before he could say anything more, the boy bolted.

---

Baldus found the young man sitting slumped on the bank of the river that ran beside Flarewerk's slums with hunched shoulders, a curled back, and unseeing eyes. As a soldier, he recognized well the shock that often came with one's first experience with the bloody violence of the battlefield.

_He's so young, _Baldus thought to himself. _Still, there's no mistaking it… he's the one. And so… for the sake of our beloved country…_

He knelt beside the boy with a groan as his old bones protested the movement. "Lad… you're one of Brongaa's line, aren't you?"

Slowly, the boy nodded. "…Emperor Karza was my great-grandfather," he said in a distant-sounding, shellshocked voice.

"…I see," Baldus mused. "…Then, may I ask your name, young man?"

"…It's Gulcasa," the boy replied, still not looking up at him.

There was a long silence as Baldus considered the weight of his discovery and the young boy Gulcasa stared at the river with empty eyes.

"…What now…?" Gulcasa asked finally, looking up at Baldus so that the old soldier could see the half-faded tearstains on his face. "With my parents gone… I… we don't have anywhere to go now. I… I can't take care of the girls by myself… and after what I did, they'll be looking for us. I… I killed…" He shook his head uncomprehendingly, apparently still fighting the horror of what he'd done.

"…………" Baldus looked at him for a moment, knowing now what he had to do. "…Then, if you no longer have a home… you and your family may stay with me, if you would like."

Gulcasa blinked at him. "B-but… I don't even know you. Why would you offer to do something like that for us…?"

"When I was a young man, I served as one of your great-grandfather's knights," Baldus replied. "I witnessed this country's fall, and I was too powerless to do anything to spare our people from this fate. All these years, I have watched Bronquia's slow slide towards ruin, and the way its people ache for any hope, no matter how small or fruitless it may seem. And right now, the only _real _hope our country has lies in your blood. The old Imperial line must survive, no matter the cost. I owe His late Majesty that."

"…………" Gulcasa stared at Baldus as though he'd never seen anything quite like the old knight before. "But… what could I possibly do?"

"In the future, there will come a time when this country cannot take any more abuse," Baldus said heavily. "When that time comes, the people will rise up to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. And when that happens, they will need a leader. Based on what I've seen today… that leader must be you."

"…………"

"Until that day arrives, I will protect you and your sisters," Baldus told him. "And beyond that, I will teach all of you to defend yourselves properly. Today you decided to stand up and fight for what you hold dear. You cannot turn back now that you've taken the lives of two men." _Not even at your young age, poor lad. _"You must take responsibility for your actions, and become what you were born to be. Never again can you allow yourself to forget… you are this country's hope."

Gulcasa took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand, ignoring the smears of blood that streaked across his face in place of tears. "…I don't have any other choice but to accept your offer. I can't just let my sisters die the way they will if we're left alone. I'll take you to them, and we'll go with you."

"It must not be an easy thing for you to trust me," Baldus said. "You've lost a great deal today. I swear on my honor that I will do all I can for you."

"Alright… let's go, Sir…" Gulcasa frowned, apparently realizing that he didn't even know his benefactor's name yet.

"I apologize. My name is Baldus… currently the breeder and trainer of the Imperial court's horses, but always a loyal servant of the true Imperial family."

"Then… Sir Baldus, I'll take you to my sisters." Gulcasa hesitated, then stood. "I doubt… I can ever repay you for this, but…"

"There's no need," Baldus assured him. "As your knight-guardian, my life is yours. Besides… I've a feeling you won't want to thank me once I start training you in the ways of war. We've a long way to go if I'm to make the next Emperor out of you."

Finally, the corner of Gulcasa's lips twitched, and he smiled reluctantly.

"…Maybe so," he said. "But still… thank you."

Baldus just smiled. At last, he'd found what he'd been seeking, through all these sad years of ruin. He'd found the hope he was willing to fight for… the first glimmer of light in the darkness.

:owari:


End file.
